It’s four o’clock in the morning, I
know the hour, before I wake.
The beating of my heart, at
this familiar darkness will be the
penance to open my eyes — the first
groaning prayer of my day. I won’t cringe.
I shall not moan over tired bones or lack of
sleep, I’ll flood this night-filled morning
with words, kneel before it with ache and
ink. I’ll spill this blood to write my
pain across the sacred page, until my heart’s
low hymn becomes an echo — already
chanting, rhythmic cries of sins I’ve sinned.
golden shovel – Take a line (or lines) from a poem you like. Use each word as an end word in your poem. Keep the end words in order. Credit the original poet, ie. “-after (poet)”.
POEM A DAY NOVEMBER 2015 – PROMPT:
For today’s prompt, write a mistake poem.
For more information, check out– http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/2015-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-9.